


Winter Soldier's Tale

by peoriapeoria



Series: Fitter of the Species [17]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Incredible Hulk - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Canon Character of Color, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Gen, Gender Identity, Injury, M/M, PoW, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Protective Phil Coulson, SHIELD Husbands, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-08-04
Packaged: 2018-01-21 22:07:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 2,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1565729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peoriapeoria/pseuds/peoriapeoria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>It had managed an interesting feat of propaganda that still polluted people's understanding of history, and now the people that had lived on the other side were fast approaching the final divide. No wonder Agent Coulson had thought a bit of 'old fashioned' was what was needed. Certainly taking down Hydra had been needed. Not that Steve thought they'd got everything. But backing it off this success, cutting it off from this overwhelming power had been important.</em>
</p><p>Let each hero tell their own tale, of the Winter Solder, of their fight, victory or defeat. Shadows lengthen as light fails and S.H.I.E.L.D. falls.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Natasha looked at Steve in the black version of her Captain America uniform. "Is there a problem?" Her teammate considered the question, then shook no. Right. Steve also didn't look at the running black coating on her shield.

The mission was data recovery from a seized SHIELD ship; there were hostages. She'd brought Steve in for that reason, among others. She'd known about the uniform, the specs were within margin for Steve's usual.

"You'll like the boots."

Steve looked down. She didn't looked convinced. Coulson had spoken at length, even before the plane was found, about the details he'd pieced together about Captain America's uniform. It had been subtly wrong except for the boots. These had a higher heel than Steve's current uniform.

"No need for a parachute." Natasha had the schematics double-checked. That caught her teammate.

Then it was time for the drops. Steve secured the personnel She got all the data transferred to the flashdrive. Bartok was too predictable. Of course he wanted to fight Captain America, man to woman.

That was the last part of her mission that went to plan.

It wasn't unexpected, the more complicated a situation, the more that had to be addressed as it came up. Washington D.C. was declared a federal disaster and comics proclaimed it the most radical jobs initiative they'd ever been given.

She looked at Steve, entubulated, stitched up and thankfully unconscious. Wilson was asleep by her side. Natasha slipped from the room, wondering if baby sloth videos would be as effective for Yasha as for Hulk.


	2. Chapter 2

The exhibit is confusing. There's a picture captioned James "Bucky" Buchanan Barnes. There are also pictures of "Captain America" battling aliens in NYC streets. There are other photos, men dressed up in red, white and blue, that the exhibit say were fakes. 

It says there were no photos of the original "Captain America". It says that propaganda had needed a male face, couldn't face a woman behind enemy lines.

"Bucky" had been a Howling Commando. The picture is from 1944. The man has a haunted look deep in his eyes. Captain America called him Bucky.

Confusing exhibit. Fractured like dreams. Bucky was a hero, lost in the war. The original Captain America was too.


	3. Chapter 3

Sam looked to his side, to the woman lying in the hospital bed. She'd been bad off when they found her. She still was rough. Days. She'd healed in days what would have been weeks or months of fraught recovery.

He may have been wrong, maybe Barnes was the kind you saved. She hadn't gotten to the shore on her own. She'd been in a recovery position, her head tilted to her side, lying on her back, legs straight. The river didn't spit her out, she'd been dragged from the water and there was only one in position, in condition, to do it.

Once the helicarriers were down, the rescue crews scrambled and Sam reported. He had training, he had the will. They did find survivors. They also found a lot of victims. There was no way to know how many were Hydra. How many weren't Hydra.

It had been nothing but bodies, parts of bodies when they spotted her. He'd gone down, because if anyone could survive... Sam doesn't think anyone else could have held on on that beach. It had been a fight keeping her alive. In transport, in surgery, in ICU.

Col. Rhodes appeared at the hospital. Sam had stolen his wings, and they were wrecked thanks to the Winter Soldier. "Good flying. We'll talk. Get a shower, some clothes, and hunker down. She wakes up, she sees you. Got me?"

Yes, sir. And so he'd been playing her Marvin Gaye and pretty much anything else he's got. He's got some suspicions. Tony fucking Stark swans in and out. Sam thinks HIPPA has just been pwned but isn't willing to have the machines further interfered with.

He wakes up and sees a very rumbled man looking at the chart. Abashed. That's the expression he gets as the chart is returned to its hook. Sam doesn't think the man hasn't seen everything he wanted.

"I'm Dr. Banner."

Right. This was his life. Follow Captain America into battle, meet interesting people in her hospital room. Like her boyfriend. "I'm Sam."

"Thank you. For being here. Backing her up."

Just when he thinks he knows up and down. "My privilege." Dr. Banner grins wryly. Poor choice of words. He's at a loss. They don't have much in common and she's still unconscious. He watches Dr. Banner open an insulated bag and pull out a small container popping the lid.

"It'd be better if she woke up and ate something."

Sam could smell the chocolate and coconut. "Ice cream?"

"It's almost pure protein and fat."

Sam shook his head. Of course it was. At least it didn't have to be stable above 100°F.


	4. Chapter 4

_Score and so ago_

It had started as a lark, Howard had thought that a bogeyman was just an excuse for poor planning, for equipment failure and for bad luck. He hadn't considered that the Winter Soldier could be real.

Now, not only was there evidence, but that evidence pointed to not a Russian, not some Red Patriot. American. The Winter Soldier was an American. Brainwashed. That too was supposed to be an exaggeration. Tell it to Patty Hearst. Charles Manson had nothing on this.

Howard now knew he should have killed Zola. Paperclip may have made sense for the rocket scientists, but Zola knew he'd trampled lines and would edge around any limitation.

He should have looked for James Barnes. The Alps were simple compared to the Arctic Sea. He should have considered what Zola had been testing.

The Soviets had found Barnes. Battered, bloodied. Alive. They hadn't known about the train. They didn't know here was Captain America's right hand. They'd returned him, he'd been received, and then...

Howard looked at Maria, broken and slumped over the steering wheel. Howard wondered if he twitched he'd be put out of his misery. Not that he deserved mercy, he'd never given it. He should have questioned more, cared more. He should have made retrieving Barnes a priority.


	5. Chapter 5

It comes back. Pieces unconnected tumble about slicing, jagged. Dead. There are lots of dead. He's not the Asset, not the Winter Soldier. He's not James. Who is Bucky? He still doesn't know.

He doesn't know who he is, and he doesn't know who she is, to be so sure as to put her shield on her back, and turn the other cheek. She stopped fighting. They were falling, the engines still trying to keep the platform in the air and losing. He would have gone down with it, except she fell when part broke free.

She'd watched him fall. He didn't remember the whole trip down. Train. Ground. The Soviets and the cigarettes. They'd wondered what he'd been doing, but then they had their mission and they were on the same side. He got passed along until he could be repatriated.

He jumped after her, found her in the water, pulled her ashore. He was a cypher, but she knew him. He watched until they found her, watched the basket reeled up. The man, the one with the wings, came for her.

He missed the chair. Now he can remember broken men addicted to horse anesthetic. The killing was bad. The table, the chair, the other chair. Time to time he got a scrap, of her, of a scrawny young man.

It took time to separate memory from longing. He'd never loved the short man, never told him how he'd loved him. Then he hadn't known what to do with it. He wasn't a fairy, he was the furthest thing from a sissy. Didn't keep him from wanting Steve to be his man. He'd still been rolling that in his head when the war came.

He'd remembered following her before he had recalled she and Steve were the same person. She'd planned the mission, the attack on the train. None of them were Buster Keaton. They weren't Zorro. He would follow Steve. He volunteered. Jim was ordered, because he had to stay with the radio, not to come. The rest volunteered. Steve wouldn't order what, even what Steve would do...

He'd been so certain he was hallucinating when the angel took him from the table. Steve was back in Brooklyn. Steve was short and just skin, bone and stubborn. Bucky loved him so much, was thankful Steve was safe from this cesspool.

And then he found out his angel was Steve. Steve, his beautiful, righteously indignant Steve. What had they done to him, giving him everything and taking something so integral?


	6. Chapter 6

"Which war did you come back from?" Sam had been rolling the question over since she'd been past the worst of her gut wound. Finally asking was a relief.

"I'd been in the European theater when I boarded Schmidt's plane."

Wow. He'd expected that, but to have it confirmed, to know that he's fought with a veteran of World War Two... "How long have you been back?"

"Before the Battle for Manhattan? I was in a coma after they found me, but between those, about three weeks. I can still remember Dernier standing in a smoldering street, saying that he hoped I never had to look at--"

Sam had to restrain himself, not interrupt.

"Bucky was much worse than any brick or concrete. Standing in those ruined blocks, I could think of how much worse it would have been if Schmidt had succeeded. That's, when I saw the writing on the bombers, I thought of those French cities. If I'd thought Bucky could survive that fall..."

There was little about the real Captain America's end that was known. People were still trying to get around the images of the actors and think of Captain America as a woman. "What happened on the plane?"

"We fought. The plane was damaged, Schmidt was stupid and then I did what I could to stop the plane from completing its mission. Howard was on the radio, thinking he had all the answers. If I'd told him to go after Bucky, he would have."

She was probably correct. He'd already heard from Tony how much of Stark Industries' innovations between 1945 and 1992 stemmed from the Arctic exploration. Yeah, Howard could innovate from the grave.


	7. Chapter 7

Steve has recovered physically from the events in Washington, D.C. Bucky is alive. He'd thought he would give anything for that, but the price is so high. Steve had been frozen in ice, and now he realizes just how fortunate he'd been. Bucky had survived, been found, returned and then...

Steve doesn't know how, when. He's read about what happened after the war. The Space Race, the Cold War, the Nuclear Arms Race. He's got a matted print of a possum on his wall. He can't believe that Zola had escaped paying for all that he had done. Pierce wasn't old enough to have given the order. Someone, someone trusted had thought Bucky was worth less as a man than as a weapon.

Steve thought of what purpose he'd have been turned to. It's not that the fifties were all that much worse than his own time. He'd lived in a corrupt time, with celebrity sympathizers, graft, patronage, the rise of the Mobs. The fifties though had brought matters of private conscience into public life and stifled political debate.

It had managed an interesting feat of propaganda that still polluted people's understanding of history, and now the people that had lived on the other side were fast approaching the final divide. No wonder Agent Coulson had thought a bit of 'old fashioned' was what was needed. Certainly taking down Hydra had been needed. Not that Steve thought they'd got everything. But backing it off this success, cutting it off from this overwhelming power had been important.

"Steve?" Bruce was just inside the gym near the door.

He eased down the speed of ropejumping before stopping and coiling the cord. "Yes?" There were very good things about the present.

"Dinner on the common floor."

"Be there after I clean up." Steve put the jumprope in its place and picked up his waterbottle. He drank deep then screwed the lid back on. Bruce was still at the door as he left. Steve nuzzled Bruce's cheek and jaw, careful not to get him sweat-damp.

Bruce turned his head and kissed him back. Steve built and banked it. "I am hungry." He'd had a lot to think about, had been working out for hours. He looked at Bruce, including him in that hunger.

"See you there." Bruce turned and left.

Steve went to Bruce's floor to shower and get dressed.


	8. Chapter 8

"JARVIS, got me that motion analysis?" Tony looks at the wireframe, at the numbers projected alongside. That is not Zola's work. It's beyond his own best, and he's years ahead of the next team behind. No way that 1945 pulled that off. The rest though, he's going to have Bruce look at this. "JARVIS, make a montage focusing on the connection of the arm to Barnes." He's no expert on meat but he can see they added a flange, utter vandalism.

He's not read the specifics yet, but he knows the Winter Soldier... The wreck wasn't an accident. Obie had made it sound like his father had been driving. He hadn't asked questions. Years, he hadn't for years, not until the cave.

He'd killed more people than the Winter Soldier, and Barnes wasn't the Winter Soldier, whether the man knew that yet or not. He would though, because Steve Rogers didn't quit.


	9. Chapter 9

"Welcome back, Phil Coulson."

"Agent, JARVIS. Does no one stay dead? No offense, how'd you cheat the boatman?"

"Tahiti." Phil looked around the common room, "Steve" Rogers and Sam Wilson were playing a video game, Natasha was curled up with a book, Ms Potts reigned over a couch, tablet in hand and feet in Tony's lap.

"Finally." Clint came from further in the floor and strode to him, clasping his hand. He felt the ring slide onto his finger. Clint shoved on his own.

Phil kissed him, then felt Clint 'drop' leading a dip. He didn't actually have a problem with that, though he did snap the finish a little, pulling Clint up with a hop.

"What just happened here? Barton, did you propose?"

"Pretty sure it's proposition when he's your husband."

"Congratulations. On both, alive, married..."

Phil was struck by how young she looked, now that they weren't heading into conflict. "Thank you." He hoped to get to know the woman behind the myth. He'd been going over the CCTV and other images from D.C. Pierce had to have known Barnes was an American. Photos had circulated of the Howling Commandos since Truman's desegregation of the armed forces order, often with a sleeve or leg of Captain America caught at the edge. Since he had fallen from the train and been presumed dead, though officially listed as MIA all these years, his name became public record.

POW. James Buchanan Barnes was a POW yet to be repatriated seventy years later. Phil Coulson has made many compromises during his years in harness. He will see this to the end.


End file.
